


Refresh/Restart

by Immicolia



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I just like the idea of Jin being bitter and vicious while everything is awkward, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, can something be OOC if they don't really have a character yet?, everything about this is self-indulgent, if this disaster fic somehow becomes even remotely canon compliant I am going to laugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immicolia/pseuds/Immicolia
Summary: Coming home after so long is never easy, and it's even harder when you have to readjust to feeling things.(an AU based on the idea that Jin was the one replaced by his backup, spent ten years trapped in the network, and now has to readjust to life in reality)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been working on for months now and actually a good chunk of the first chapter I posted on my Tumblr a while ago, although most of it's been rewritten from that particular incarnation.
> 
> Anyone who puts up with my nonsense on Tumblr likely knows by this point that I'm really fond of the idea that Jin was the one replaced by a backup and wound up living in the network for ten years. I have thoughts about how that could go. About him being in cahoots with Lightning and ultimately out to backstab him because he wants to wipe out everything related to the Hanoi Project, but I don't really have it in me to write a whole fic based on those ideas. Especially because there is a part of me that is far more interested in exploring the aftermath, which is what this fic is about. Because digital things having to adjust to physicality is one of those things that really appeals to me. So I've written a ton of self-indulgent nonsense and am finally going "screw it, I'll start posting it" although further chapters may be slow coming because there's a lot of editing I need to do.
> 
> I would like to give a nod to darkzoura100 on Tumblr, which is where I first saw the theory that maybe Jin was the one replaced. The idea never would have occurred to me otherwise and I've grown way too fond of it even if it actually happening is an absolute long shot.

At first things don't seem quite so bad.

Certainly life outside of the network was too much, too intense. There were days when Jin found himself all too aware of the beating of his heart and the rasp of air in and out of his lungs. Moments where he'd get distracted by some texture under his fingertips or nearly burn himself from rinsing his hands under water that he didn't realize was far too hot. But he told himself, kept insisting over and over, that he could cope.

He wasn't trapped anymore. He was free. He had a physical body again and his brother was there to support him and everything was going to be fine.

Or that's what Shoichi kept saying at the very least. A mantra repeated incessantly, like he was trying to convince himself of it more than anything. The smile on his lips plastic and almost manic as he tried to comfort Jin on the days when things got Bad.

Jin believed him. He had to. What was the alternative? There was no going back, after all. No going back to being a digital ghost. He was alive and he had to get used to it.

Then a simple cut across his palm threw into sharp focus just how impossible that might be.

Shoichi had said, "Pass me that knife, I need to wash it," and without thinking Jin grabbed it by the blade. So used to nothing hurting, nothing touching him, that he hadn't even thought. He simply wrapped his hand around the closest part and the burning pain that jolted its way up his arm had been an unpleasant shock that caused his fingers to reflexively open and the knife to clatter to the floor.

"Whoa, careful. Are you all right?" Almost immediately Shoichi was at his side, examining the cut with a concerned frown. It had been long but shallow and Jin had mumbled, "It's fine. Don't worry," as Shoichi ushered him over to the sink to carefully rinse it clean.

"We should probably go to the hospital. You might need stitches."

"Really, it's _fine_ ," Jin had insisted as Shoichi wrapped a clean towel around it to catch the blood, trying to ignore the way it throbbed in pain every time he flexed his hand just slightly.

The wound ached through the whole drive to the hospital and while they sat side by side in the emergency room and when the doctor examined it before commenting that it was shallow enough that stitches weren't necessary. "Just try not to use that hand too much while it heals," she'd said as she bandaged it and gave him a mild painkiller.

That was when the ache finally numbed for the most part, and as they walked back to the truck all he could think was how much hated this. All of it. Pain, and how fragile a body is, and needing to eat, and getting tired, and every stupid, inconvenient, thing about being human.

Hate is something that has been all too familiar to Jin for years now. The day he switched with his backup is etched into his mind forever and no matter how awful being trapped in that room with its VR headset and constant duels (constant torture) had been it was still better than that. Better than the strange, suspended, state of watching a stilted parody crumble and wail and eventually be rescued.

That was the day he truly started to hate... everything, really.

_It_ went home, while Jin had been trapped and alone and it wasn't until years later, after all the equipment was taken by SOL and moved to be studied, that he had been able to escape into the network at large. Not that it had seemed any better there, he was still alone and afraid, but at least he'd been free.

He was free, but he hated it. Hated everything. Hated the thing that had stolen his life. Hated that his family never realized it wasn't him. Hated the boy he'd met at the card shop that day who'd led him astray. Hated that his brother had been so bored and annoyed that afternoon he'd wandered off to _let_ him get led astray.

It was a list that only kept expanding the more time passed and the more he learned.

He hated Doctor Kogami and the whole Hanoi Project and the AIs that spawned from those sick experiments (even as he metaphorically choked back his bile and worked with one) and the little world they created for themselves. There was nothing he wanted more than to see it all burn.

Except it didn't.

For ten years that is all he wanted only to have it all torn away from him and sometimes he hates Fujiki Yusaku most of all for denying him.

He did a lot of reading over those ten years and Jin isn't sure if it's ironic or not how fond he became of science fiction. When he had to find something to call them he borrowed Bowman and Hal's names from one old set of books, but he never considered himself much like the aliens who made the monolith even if, like them, he had lost his body long ago.

It may have been from a different story but if he could compare himself to anything -- as strange as it is to compare himself to an AI, fictional or no -- it would be AM. All he knows anymore, all he’s known for ten years now, is hate.

Even now that it's over and his brother fusses over him he still feels it, a sickness low in his belly. He'd hated it while he'd been trapped in the network but he hates it now that everything is over and he has his body back too.

He just doesn't know what he wants anymore.

  

Shoichi is twitchy on the drive back to the plaza, eyes darting towards Jin and his fingers tap out an erratic rhythm on the steering wheel at every stoplight. A strained silence hovering over everything that Jin decides to break, solely because he knows it will likely ease some of the tension.

Not that he knows what to say. He never does. He just rattles off the first thing to pop into his head, as always.

"When astronauts come back to earth they tend to drop things for the first little while because they expect them to float."

On the plus side Shoichi stops fidgeting, his whole body going still save for the quick glance he shoots in Jin's direction. On the negative Shoichi's expression is baffled and concerned and in that moment Jin knows he did something Weird again.

It's been happening more and more. At first Jin had been far too overwhelmed from existing in reality again to say or do much of anything beyond the most basic of things and Shoichi had been far too relieved to have him back to notice or care on the occasions when Jin acted odd. But as time goes on, and he becomes as comfortable as he can be with life outside of the digital again, Jin finds himself becoming at ease enough to act... normally. Or at least what is normal for him.

Although if Shoichi's reactions are any indication, what is normal for him is anything but, and more often than not his brother looks at him like he's something strange and alien.

Which, Jin supposes, he is in a way.

"Where'd you learn that?" Shoichi's voice is strangled and he keeps shooting Jin these darting glances out of the corner of his eye. Like he doesn't know what to say but feels as if he has to respond and Jin shrugs, turning his attention to his bandaged hand just so he doesn't accidently meet Shoichi's gaze.

"I can't remember. I probably read it somewhere. There wasn't much else to do so I read a lot while I...." His voice trails off into nothing. They've never talked about it. Not the Lost Incident, not the time afterwards when Jin was truly lost, none of it. "Well, anyway. I learned as much as I could. History, science, literature. Bits and pieces of a couple languages. Programming too. I'm better at that than both you and Fujiki, remember?" A smile, tight and vicious touches his lips at the thought and the smile Shoichi shoots him in return is awkward and obviously false.

"Yea. I suppose that means catching up with school won't be much of a problem."

"I guess not."

"I'm pretty relieved about that, actually." Shoichi is rambling now, that much is obvious. Spitting out words that trip over one another to chase away the choking silence that would be filling the cab otherwise. "I was worried about how you could possibly catch up after missing out on ten years."

"Were you? Or were you hoping that I'd be helpless and stuck with you forever?"

The moment the words form on his tongue Jin knows he shouldn't say them but he can't quite stop himself. All that time spent virtually alone has left him with an internal filter that never quite formed properly and this thought has been gnawing at him for days now.

Shoichi had been the most at ease with their situation while Jin had still been fragile and overwhelmed. The moment Jin began to find his footing again, the moment he began to adapt....

That is when the Looks started. The uncertainty. The fidgeting and the stilted conversations.

Shoichi's eyes are fixed on the road straight ahead, his knuckles standing out stark white against the rest of his hand (the grip he has on the steering wheel must be chokingly tight) and when he finally answers his voice is harsh and uneven. "W- why would I--?"

"Penance." The word comes to Jin's lips without even a moment's hesitation. "For what happened. It was your fault. You should have been watching me." Jin glances back towards him, the smile touching his lips shifted to something cold and hollow now. "That's what you think, isn't it? I wandered off but I didn't know better. You should have been watching closer. You were older and I was your responsibility."

"Jin...."

"If you're wondering, I don't blame you." He turns back towards the window, his head resting against the cool glass and every bit of body language closed off and guarded. "Not anymore, anyway. I did for a while, but I'm over it."

"Are you really?"

He shrugs. "Does it matter? I hated the whole world at some point or another, why wouldn't I hate you too? But it's over now so it's not worth the energy anymore. It probably wasn't worth the energy at the time either."

Silence falls again, as thick and oppressive as ever (maybe even moreso) until they reach the plaza and Shoichi parks in the usual spot. His hands flexing on the steering wheel and it's clear that he's grasping for something to say so Jin speaks first, his eyes still fixed on some distant point just outside the window as he once again spits out the very first thing that comes to mind.

"I can imagine how hard it must be, to have to readjust to being in gravity."

Shoichi cycles through a whole string of nervous ticks (his hands flex again, he licks his lips, he swallows then opens and closes his mouth a few times) before he finally replies. "So, you saying you feel like an astronaut?"

A frown knits Jin's brow as he considers the question. Murmuring, "Ten years is a long time to spend without a connection to anything real," after a moment. "Astronauts forget that things don't float. I wound up forgetting that knives are sharp."

There is no response and once again Jin wonders if that was a little too strange, when Shoichi smiles (forces one really) and says, "We should get set up before we completely miss the evening rush."

"Sorry." He doesn't even know what he's apologizing for. Whether it's for being so goddamn stupid that he grabbed a knife by the blade or for not being whatever it is that Shoichi expects him to be.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Shoichi replies, and Jin almost starts laughing. A hysterical edginess that builds in the back of his throat and he swallows it down as he slides out of the truck's passenger seat.

He wonders if things will ever stop feeling wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

There is a soothing sort of rhythm to Jin's days. He helps out with the truck and dutifully works through a few online classes. Shoichi makes noises about him maybe, just maybe, attending school proper next year (his eyes desperately hopeful) and Jin shrugs and says "yea, maybe" in agreement if only to make him feel better.

Things are quiet and even. _Normal_. And there are moments, the moments where Shoichi isn't shooting darting glances of concern in his direction, where he can almost pretend that his life has always been like this. That the last ten years never happened.

Then there are the days Fujiki comes by.

It's a regular thing, a habit that is too hard for either Fujiki or Shoichi to break. School ends for the day, Fujiki shows up at the truck, and neither of them know what to do with themselves because the one thing that connected them, their sole shared goal, is over and done with. Over, done with, and watching them from a nearby table while they awkwardly try to find some other common ground.

It's obvious that Shoichi was hoping all three of them could be friends of a sort. A group of people who have been through a very specific sort of hell together, who understand one another, and maybe Fujiki and Shoichi actually do have that. Even if they never quite know what to say to each other anymore there is a sort of ease between them that indicates they don't need to say anything at all. An ease that Shoichi thinks all of them should be able to share.

Except Jin doesn't quite _fit_ and there is still some small part of him that only sees the vengeance he was denied when he looks in Fujiki's direction. Fujiki may be satisfied with how things ended, but Jin never will be. Not until every last trace of the Hanoi Project is scoured from the earth and there must be some moments when it shows; in his expression or the way he holds his body or _something_. For the most part Fujiki keeps his distance and Jin is perfectly content with maintaining that distance.

Shoichi is the only one who seems to have a problem with the pair of them very carefully ignoring one another, and Jin isn't surprised when Shoichi sits down across from him one afternoon shortly after Fujiki leaves and asks, "Are you okay with this?" The question careful and overly delicate like everything Shoichi says to him and Jin has to fight to not make a face in response.

"Okay with what?" He's a little surprised at how even he's able to keep his voice in that moment. Perfectly calm and with just the right amount of curiosity to hide the fact that he knows _exactly_ what the question is about.

Shoichi frowns. Just slightly. Enough to show that he doesn't quite buy into Jin's affected indifference, but is humouring him all the same. "Yusaku coming here."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You never seem all that happy when he's around. And I don't think I've seen you say a word to each other since--"

"I don't hate him, if that's what you're getting at." It's a lie, and judging by how unconvinced Shoichi looks they both know it although neither of them acknowledges the fact. "We just have nothing to talk about. Are we supposed to bond over one of the most horrible moments of our lives?"

The question comes out a little sharper than he'd like and Shoichi goes pale before glancing away. Murmuring, "You're right," after a moment and despite the fact that he doesn't want to, Jin feels strangely guilty about it.

"I'm still figuring this out," Jin says after a moment, nudging the tablet sitting on the table in front of him with a finger for something to do with his hands. "How to live. But I'm trying. I guess I can try with this too."

"You don't have to. I don't know what I was--"

"I know. But I will."

It's easy to say, but following through is much more difficult and when Fujiki shows up the next day Jin is tempted to continue avoiding him. There is a certain comfort in remaining detached, sitting separate from the world like he always has, not letting anything touch him. A comfort that he doesn't quite want to give up yet, if ever.

Then he catches Shoichi's eyes, and the worried look there, and a hard pit of guilt settles in his stomach.

He said he'd try. It's the least he can do.

When Fujiki moves to leave, Jin stands and falls into step alongside him. Something that causes a small frown of confusion to crease Fujiki's brow and the pair of them walk in silence until Jin says, "My brother wants all of us to be 'friends.'"

"And you'd rather not," Fujiki replies, his voice low and indifferent. As if he understands just as well as Jin does how pointless this whole conversation is going to be.

"I'd _rather_ never see your face ever again, but I'm willing to put up with you for him. I'm apparently willing to do a lot of things that I would normally want nothing to do with for him. God knows why." The words are harsh on his tongue, bitter poisonous things that leave his throat aching as he spits them out. "I hated him, you know. I hated _everything_ when I was in there."

"I can understand that."

Jin wants to laugh. To snap, "no you don't," because it's obvious he doesn't. Fujiki may have known hate but they never hated in remotely the same way. Fujiki's hatred was a sharp, laser-focused, thing. Intent on one thing and one thing only: the people who stole away his childhood, his life. Once that was gone so was the hate and now all that remains is the cold, brittle, shell he'd formed around it.

Jin can only dream of his own emotions ever being that neat and manageable.

"I told him I'd try. So I'm trying," he blurts once the silence between them gets to be too much. "But that doesn't mean I like you and it sure as hell doesn't mean I forgive you."

" _Forgive_ me?"

Fujiki stops, stares at him, as if he can't quite believe what he just heard and Jin's lips curl into a vicious sneer in return.

"You both think you saved me, but all you did was snatch away the revenge _I'd_ been working towards and left me trapped. I'm trying to make the best of this because it's all I have now, but it's a living hell. Do you have any idea how aware I was of breathing that first night? It's all too much, to the point where I want to die, and you both look at me like I'm supposed to _thank_ you for this."

It all comes out in a rush, far more than he has ever wanted to admit to, and certainly nothing he ever wanted to admit to Fujiki of all people. Things that have been building up, nearly choking him, and now that they've been exposed to the air he feels strangely light headed. Uncertain if it's pure relief from finally speaking his mind or adrenaline from the anger. His breathing harsh and ragged as it rasps its way in and out of his lungs.

His breathing is always too loud. Distractingly loud.

"Have you told him?" Fujiki asks and this time it's Jin's turn to stare is if he can't quite believe what he's hearing.

"Of course not. Things are awkward enough. I don't need to make them worse. And you better not tell him either."

He turns sharply, back towards the truck, desperate to get away. To not have to deal with this anymore. The sound of Fujiki calling out, "wait," enough to stop him momentarily. Still light-headed and gasping and his voice is raw enough that he almost sounds like he'd been screaming.

"I don't care if you hang around. It makes him happy, don't stop on my account. But I don't want to deal with you. I can't."

Without another word he walks away. And when he reaches the truck he smiles at his brother like there is absolutely nothing wrong.

 

Things fall back into the same quiet rhythm as before. Fujiki shows up in the afternoons, Jin forces a smile and nods vaguely at him and then goes back to ignoring his existence. Despite the way he nearly shattered the days remain soothingly similar. He may still hate Fujiki on some level, but hiding it for Shoichi's sake has become second nature. A lie told out of kindness; or maybe because the lie is far easier than the truth.

The same can't be said for how he feels about Kogami Ryoken.

Kogami stops by the truck once, walking side by side with Fujiki the pair of them in low conversation as they approach, and Jin knows there must be pure, naked, hatred on his face when they do solely from the reactions. Kogami flinches, just slightly but enough to be noticed while his face stays otherwise impassive. Shoichi's eyes dart between the pair of teens and his brother right before a frown creases his brow. And Fujiki....

Fujiki doesn't react at all save for moving a little bit closer to Kogami. So perfectly calm and composed that Jin wants to scream.

Instead he turns his attention back towards the tablet in front of him, the text on the screen swimming a little in front of his eyes as he tries his damnedest to ignore their existence. All too aware of the sound of his heart pounding triple-time in his ears.

They don't stay for long after that and Jin knows that Shoichi must have told them to go. Told Fujiki to not come by when the two of them are together, because the next day he shows up alone and when he eventually moves to leave Jin finds himself awkwardly jerking to his feet and falling into step alongside him.

The silence between them is even more oppressive than last time and Jin is all too aware of the twin sensations of panic and fury pressing down against his chest, leaving him breathless until he manages to choke out, "How the hell can you even stand to look at him?"

There is no question about who 'he' is and Fujiki doesn't hesitate before replying, "He saved me," as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

Maybe for him it is.

"Peachy for you. What about the rest of us?"

Fujiki's expression doesn't change. He's still as distant and impassive as ever as he says, "I'm not asking you to forgive him. You wanted to know how I could stand to look at him, I explained."

"Fine. But he damned me, so when I look at him I want to kill him."

There's a faint hum from Fujiki. Something that might be agreement, or understanding, or maybe he's just thinking. Whatever the response is, Jin doesn't particularly care. He turns on his heel and strides back towards the truck, as quickly as he can without breaking into a run. Quietly thankful that this time Fujiki doesn't try to push the conversation any further.

The next day Fujiki doesn't show up, or the next, or the next. Shoichi looks concerned, but doesn't comment on it and Jin forces himself to hide how relieved he is by all of it.

He could happily go the rest of his life without seeing Fujiki Yusaku ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

The first time Jin heads back into VR is during the dead of night.

Nights are always the hardest. The darkest parts, when Shoichi is asleep and everything is silent, that's when he becomes even more aware of all the little sensations that come with being alive. His heartbeat and breathing and the texture of fabric under his fingertips. Discomfort crawls its way along his skin, he swallows hard, and every little twitch, every movement, every toss and turn, becomes just that much more distracting until he is sitting up in the darkness with his knees pulled tight against his chest, desperately wishing that he could ignore it all and just _sleep_.

One night it gets to the point where he finds himself slinking out of his room and snatching the keys to the truck out of the little bowl by the front door. Too distracted to bother with shoes as he slips outside and even if it is stupid and he might hurt himself the sharp discomfort of treading on who knows what is a welcome distraction from all the other sensations.

It's been months since everything ended, but all the equipment is still in the truck and sometimes Jin wants to ask Shoichi why. Why on Earth he's keeping such a concrete reminder of everything so close at hand when he could just as easily sell it off piece by piece and bolster his savings a bit. Although at the moment, as he seals himself into the link compartment and logs in, he's thankful that his brother never did.

Everything becomes a little bit blunter when the virtual settles around him. Soothing and familiar and there is some deep, instinctual, part of his brain that screams " _home_ " as he takes a moment to reacclimatize himself.

It all feels so natural, so comfortable, it makes him sick.

The account is brand new and without a D-board (maybe he should hack one in if he ever decides to come back) all he can do is wander. The crowds are blessedly thin this late at night but there are still plenty of duelists roaming about and duels underway and it takes a while to find a place isolated enough that he can just sit and _think_.

He stays until he's forcibly logged out, the interface nagging at him about the dangers of extended stretches of time in VR before he's booted (he's going to have to do something about that as well if he ever decides to go back in) and as he steps out of the truck and squints up at the faint hints of dawn in the sky it sinks in that he can't remember the last time he's felt so at ease.

At ease, or at the very least exhausted, enough that he just might be able to get some sleep.

The pattern that Jin's life has fallen into shifts after that. The days are the same as they ever were, but at night he'll toss and turn for a few hours before giving up and slipping off into the virtual. A few careful adjustments hacked into his account before his second trip (D-board added, the protocols that prevent extended logins subverted) and then he enters. Night after night.

Maybe it's too often, maybe it could be considered a problem, but it makes the night go by faster and when he steps back into reality he's tired enough that he falls fast asleep despite the distractions of living.

Then the pattern shifts again.

Fujiki's appearances at the truck are a little more sporadic than they were before their conversations, as brief as those conversations may have been, but every few days he still comes by and one afternoon Jin is irritable enough that when he notices Fujiki approaching he jerks to his feet.

He can't quite put his finger on exactly why _this time_ is the straw snapping the proverbial camel in two, all Jin knows is that he needs to get away. Just for a little while. He needs to get away and escape is right there, a few feet away, just behind where Shoichi is busy with the grill.

Shoichi stares at him, shocked and confused, as he climbs into the truck and Jin is half aware of mumbling something indistinct before he closes himself into the link compartment.

Five seconds after the door shuts reality slips away and it doesn't matter anymore.

He's taken to exploring the higher reaches of Link Vrains. The constantly under construction floating islands that no one is supposed to be able to access but are laughably easy to find a way onto. Places where he can stake out a comfortable perch to watch various speed duels, unable to stop from mechanically analyzing strategy and techniques as he does.

As much as he may never want to duel again, when he watches sometimes his fingers almost _itch_ a little and he's all too aware of the familiar weight of the duel disc on his wrist.

He stays logged in for nearly six hours and when he steps back into reality he's starving, in need of a nap, and Shoichi is staring at him. His expression a mixture of baffled, concerned, and absolutely terrified.

"I didn't think you'd ever want to...." Shoichi's voice trails off helplessly, one of his hands motioning vaguely to the link compartment behind Jin, who shrugs. Not quite able to look his brother in the eye.

"It's not a big deal."

Even as he says it Jin's positive that they both recognize that statement for the lie that it is. A lie that they both seem willing to accept at the moment as Shoichi nods and says, "I'll make you something to eat."

 

The pattern continues until Jin finds himself blurting, "Are you disappointed?" one evening. Shoichi goes still, almost dropping the sign he'd been folding up to tuck into the back of the truck. Forced levity thick in his voice as he turns and asks, "What are you talking about?" and Jin sighs. His fingers drumming an absent tattoo on the table he's seated at.

As much as the whole thing galls him, those few brief, bitter, words he'd spit at Fujiki (and the other teen's measured response) stick with him, along with the strange mixture of sickness and relief that had followed. As if in that moment he had been able to purge some of the poison that is constantly churning inside him and the one simple question: "have you told him?" keeps springing to the front of his mind.

He's not sure if he can say everything to Shoichi that he did to Fujiki. If he can meet his brother's eyes and explain just how sideways and off everything feels. But maybe....

"I know I'm not what you expected. None of this is. What you were fighting for didn't exist and now you're stuck with me instead of whatever ideal of a little brother you built up in your head."

A slight twitch, Shoichi's head twists away to focus far too intently on the cleanup that needs to be done around the truck, and Jin nods to himself. After so many years spent lost and alone and simply _observing_ , drawing in as much information as possible, reading his brother is easy. Almost laughably so.

"That's not true," Shoichi chokes out after a moment of silence. If there's one thing Jin has learned it's that Shoichi can't _stand_ silence and has an almost pathological need to fill it, something he can understand. "All I wanted was to have you back, no matter what, and--"

"I'm still not what you expected."

"I don't know _what_ I expected," Shoichi snaps back, wrenching open the back door of the truck with far more force than is necessary. "So, sure, I guess you're not it. But I'm still happy you're okay. I don't even know why you'd think otherwise."

Jin shrugs. He can tell Shoichi is lying. Maybe not consciously, but lying all the same and there isn't much he can say in response to that. Instead he gets to his feet in one smooth motion and brushes past his brother to climb into the back of the truck. "I'm going to head into Link Vrains for a bit. Don't feel like you have to wait up, I can lock up the truck for you."

Shoichi frowns at him. The same frown he wears every time Jin seals himself into the link compartment, as if he can't quite understand why Jin keeps going back but is afraid to say anything about it. Even if he did Jin isn't sure how he'd respond. It's not like he can explain how at ease he feels inside the virtual. How much more comfortable it is to be in a world that isn't made up of too many sensations battering against his brain.

All he knows is that as much as he may have hated it before, now he misses it. So he goes back. Day after day after day. Well aware that it's too much, too often, but unable to stop all the same.

This time though, the ease he usually feels doesn't come quite as easily and instead of heading upwards he finds himself venturing out. Towards the shadowy Edge that was almost but not quite chased away when New Link Vrains rose all sleek and sanitized out of the rubble left behind by the Tower of Hanoi incident.

Before, back when there was no escape from the digital he would occasionally slip away to these shadowy areas where there were illicit deals and illicit duels and more. As much as he may have hated (still hates) dueling it was a necessity then, and the Edge was the best place to keep his skills sharp without getting too close to the more well-trafficked areas. A place where it was easy to hide and he carefully shifted his appearance each time to stop any sort of rumours before they could start.

Now with everything over there is no more need for dueling but he finds himself walking through those narrow virtual alleys once again. Spoiling for a fight. In the Edge the feedback is always tuned a little bit higher, still not as overwhelming as reality but sharper than out in Link Vrains proper. Here things hurt and right now that is what he wants. To hurt and be hurt. To tear something, anything, _anyone_ apart.

To feel like himself (the way he once was) again.

It doesn't take long to find an opponent, someone that looks at him and sees nothing more than a soft kid. An easy mark. Posturing and threatening and Jin acts as meek as he looks. Just like the prey this man is expecting.

Then he destroys him in one turn.

It's all too easy, too fast, and there's a vicious sort if _itch_ along every nerve, screaming at him that one is nowhere near enough. Pushing him forward to seek out another opponent, and another, and another.

Some are good. Good enough to chip off a little bit of life. Good enough for the sharp edge of pain to crackle along his skin and push him to fight that much harder, but no one can beat him. And when he finally staggers out of the link compartment hours later he's shaking from the shear exhilaration of it all.

Shaking and sick to his stomach and it takes everything he has to stumble out of the truck before he drops to his knees and vomits. It's mostly bile, he forgot to eat again, and as he chokes and struggles to breathe the night air is cool against his sweat-damp skin.

_This_ is what he's been missing. As awful and strange and broken as he feels it's like a missing piece has clicked back into place. Not a piece that was good, or necessary, or even remotely healthy, but one he felt the absence of all the same.

Despite being well past midnight Shoichi is still awake when he slips into the apartment. Tablet in hand like he's been reading but Jin has the feeling that he's spent the past few hours worrying and he tries his best to paste a casual smile on his lips. "I said you didn't have to wait up."

"I- was just catching up on some stuff. You lock the truck?"

"Yea."

Silence falls, as strange and edgy as ever, and there is a moment where he thinks that Shoichi might say something. A protest or a question or _something_ to address not only the conversation that drove Jin headlong into Link Vrains tonight, but also just how often Jin has been spending locked away in VR in general.

Something Jin doesn't want to hear and he quickly says, "I'm exhausted. I'm gonna go to bed," before another word can be spoken.

It's far easier that way.


	4. Chapter 4

The calls from their parents come on Monday evenings when things are slow around the truck. Shoichi usually waves Jin over to watch the counter while he slouches in one of the chairs next to the console and assures their mother that everything is fine. "Yea, he's started helping me out with the truck. No, no setbacks. Yes, I'm making sure he's catching up with school." On and on like Jin isn't currently within earshot while they discuss him.

Eventually the question always comes. Shoichi turns towards him and asks, "Do you want to talk to them?" and every time Jin declines. Shoichi let it go on the first few occasions, saying, "He's not really up to it right now," and ending the call after a few more words.

Jin really should have expected that it wouldn't stay that way. That at some point Shoichi would _insist_ he at the very least make a token effort to say "hello". Even still he's surprised one evening when Shoichi all but forces the phone into his hand. Hissing, "They're worried sick and you're going to reassure them," so abruptly that all Jin can do is nod numbly in response and force a stiff smile onto his face before he lifts the phone and chokes out, "Hi, Mom," to the woman staring at him from the screen.

His parents visited once, shortly after he "woke up". Crying and fussing over him and he hadn't been in much of a state back then to really look at either of them. Not like now and although his memories of Before are pale, gossamer-thin, things --he'd been too young to remember much, the Incident and what followed eclipsing the few memories he did have-- he doesn't remember his mother ever looking this exhausted.

Exhausted and _old_. Even if it has been a decade he can't quite wrap his head around it.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you?" 

"Fine, I guess."

"That's good! I'm so glad." The response is cloying and careful, like he'll somehow fall apart if he hears the wrong thing and the urge to scream starts bubbling in the back of his throat, choking him.

It's tempting to shut down. He barely knows how to act human around Shoichi, someone who actually _knows_ about everything that happened. The idea of putting up this kind of illusion around his parents (and keeping it up, god he's going to have to keep it up for the rest of his life) is too much. He could just go cold and brittle right now; show his mother exactly what he's become.

He's tempted, but he can't.

His mother's face is so desperately _hopeful_ as she chatters on and on about how happy she is to see Jin up and around and carefully quizzes him on how he's feeling. What he's been doing. It couldn't be more obvious that she wants to believe that everything is Fine now (her baby boy is getting better, the nightmare finally over) and even as broken as he is Jin can't quite disillusion that.

So he smiles and very carefully doesn't mention the trips into VR when he's asked about how he's been spending his time.

It's all so stiff and awkward, but with enough gentleness to it that Jin finds himself slowly thawing somewhat. Lulled into thinking that maybe he can do this. Maybe it won't be so hard to figure out how to be a person. Almost telling the truth this time when he says, "Yea, maybe I'll go back to school when I'm caught up," because maybe he _could_ manage that.

Maybe he really can remember how to be human.

"When are you boys coming for a visit?"

The question is a natural one, expected, but Jin's blood still goes cold, his throat far too tight to speak. Hand trembling almost to the point where the phone slips from his fingers, then Shoichi is there. Peering over his shoulder as he plucks the cell from Jin's hand, an easy (fake) smile touching his lips as he replies, "soon, I promise," and says his goodbyes (alongside a, "No, don't worry. He's still kind of iffy about leaving places he's used to. Yea, kind of like agoraphobia. We're working on it. It's not your fault, you couldn't have known.") Shoulders sagging as he tucks the phone back into his pocket.

"You're awful good at lying."

Shoichi makes a face and Jin can't quite tell if it's anger or frustration or disgust. "I've thought about telling them everything, you know," he replies, his voice flat and lifeless. "More than once. They have no idea what happened other than the fact that you were starved and electrocuted and they're thankful that- that--"

"That I was just tortured instead of outright murdered on top of that?"

For a moment the only thing Shoichi manages is a slightly strangled sound, the expression Jin can't quite pinpoint shifting a little closer to anger. Or maybe it's just annoyance at Jin's flippancy. "The point is, they don't know. And even though I've considered it, it's not worth trying to explain. Even if they did believe it, knowing won't make them feel any better."

"Got it. It's not like I'm really gonna talk about what happened, anyway."

"You- ever think that maybe you should?"

Something in Jin's chest _clenches_ and pushes every bit of air out of his lungs, leaving him light headed, his legs trembling underneath him until sinks into one of the chairs. "Who am I supposed to talk to? You?"

"Or Yusaku. Or one of the others."

"It's--" _Not the same._ The words are on the tip of his tongue. It's not the same, it's not that easy. They weren't alone the way he was and aren't dealing with skin that feels a size too tight right now. "Forget it. I need some air."

His legs are still unsteady as he gets to his feet and wobbles the few steps towards the truck's back door. A desperate sort of ache settling in the back of Jin's throat (along his jaw, almost into his teeth) as his gaze brushes past the link compartment on his way out.

It's not fresh air he needs. It's _that_. But Shoichi seems to be in the mood to poke and prod at him, and would likely try to protest the moment he made a move towards it, making outside the preferable option.

Save for a handful of people gathered around one of the big screens the plaza is mostly empty and Jin finds himself wandering in that direction. Shoichi will probably be less inclined to follow him, to keep pushing at him, if there are other people around. And it's so much easier to not think while watching a duel. He can fall into analyzing, pick out all the places he'd do better.

Something that wouldn't be all that difficult to do given the apparent skills of the duelists on screen at the moment. They're both up-and-comers, neither particularly impressive, and speed dueling for a chance for advancement. Jin finds himself frowning slightly as the match stretches on at least two turns beyond where he'd noticed a potential conclusion, unable to stop a slight noise of disgust from slipping past his lips.

"You don't like the match?"

The voice off to his left is a shock, one that sends his startle response into overdrive and has his heart kicking rapidly in his chest as he stares blankly at the boy who spoke.

"I've- seen better," he chokes out after a moment and the teen beside him makes a face.

"Well, yea, everyone has. Without Playmaker showing up things have gotten slow. But this isn't that bad."

"It's not all that good either," Jin replies, not even sure why he's bothering to respond. "Both of them are pretty sloppy players. Either of them could have won by now if they were willing to capitalize on their opponent's mistakes. They're just far too conservative and all they're doing in the end is dragging things out."

"But the back and forth is what keeps it exciting!"

"It's stupid. Just go for the throat and end it quickly. That's the only way to survive."

Jin freezes as he realizes what he just said. His eyes darting towards the teen next to him, whose own expression is entirely bewildered as he stares back.

"That's- a weird way to look at it."

"Yea, well...." The words come out as a hoarse croak, trailing off helplessly as he grasps for an easy explanation before giving the whole thing up as hopeless. "I should go."

He shouldn't have said anything. Now he's stuck. He can't keep hanging around the screens, but the only place to go is back to the truck and a likely inevitable conversation he doesn't want to have. It's too far of a walk back to the apartment, and Shoichi is still inclined to treat Jin like he's made of glass in a lot of ways and would probably have an aneurysm if he tried.

"Are you sure? You don't look like you want to."

A tight chuckle builds in the back of Jin's throat at that and the grin that splits his face is more than a little bit bitter as he shoots back, "Come on, you don't really want to talk to me."

"Nah, it's cool. Hey, maybe the next duel'll be better."

A glance up at the screen shows a new pair of opponents squaring off, in a master duel this time, although Jin soon enough turns his attention back to the boy at his side. The same school uniform as Fujiki, so probably his age. A little bit shorter. Not to mention prone to the most inane chatter as he exclaims over the simplest combinations and nudges Jin in the side every so often, obviously curious about the other's opinion. Something that should be driving Jin absolutely up the wall with annoyance.

But for a moment, if he doesn't think too hard about any of it, Jin can almost pretend that he's normal and maybe that's enough for him to put up with almost anything.

"What's your name, anyway?" Jin finds himself asking during the next brief intermission between matches, not even sure why he's doing it. Why he's giving the other teen an opening at all. Maybe he's just that desperate for some kind ( _any_ kind) of contact where the other party has no idea that there's something wrong with him.

"Shima Naoki." The grin splitting the other boy's face is wide, as if he wasn't expecting anyone to ever ask and Jin wonders if he doesn't have many people to talk to either.

"I'm Kusanagi Jin. It- was nice talking to you."

It's a strange thing to think, but it actually _was_ enjoyable.

"You're going?"

Jin hooks a thumb towards where the truck is sitting. "My brother owns Cafe Nagi. I usually help him clean up after he shuts down for the night. Which, should be soon so--" He gives a vague sort of shrug and takes a few steps backwards. "I'll probably see you around though. If the truck's here I usually am too."

Shima nods in response as Jin heads back to the truck. And when Shoichi shoots a worried look in his direction he smiles like nothing is wrong. Actually meaning it this time.

 

It should be strange that Jin finds himself talking to Shima whenever he sees the other boy around. Casual conversations about whatever duel is playing at first which lead to Jin grabbing them something to eat while they talk. 

The first time that happens Shoichi stares, as if he can't believe any of what's occurring but is afraid to comment on it. Managing to choke out, "Isn't that the kid who hangs around Yusaku sometimes?" after a while and Jin shrugs.

"I guess so. He mentions him every so often." It's the one thing that sets Jin a little bit on edge, just how much Shima goes on about Fujiki. Or more, Playmaker, and Jin finds himself carefully trying to nudge the conversation away from either of those topics whenever they come up.

Jin's not sure if any of this makes the two of them friends, or if he wants that at all. If he knows how to even handle something like that.

But it's a good enough distraction, and distractions are something that Jin will cling to with the desperation of a drowning man.

"So what school do you go to anyway? It's weird that I've never seen you around anywhere but here."

Shima is the sort of person to blurt whatever is on his mind and as much as he dislikes... almost everything, Jin can't help but appreciate that one particular thing about him. It's not like Jin doesn't have a blunt streak of his own, even if his is more from being socially stunted than anything. His shoulders moving in an easy shrug as he replies, "I don't."

"Don't? Like, not at all? How come?"

Absently Jin starts jabbing a straw into the few bits of ice remaining in his otherwise empty drink, stalling for time as he grasps for the vaguest way to answer. "I was- sick for a while. A long while. I just got out of where I was staying a few months ago."

"You're okay though?"

"As okay as I'll ever be, I guess."

"What was it? Cancer or something?"

Jin almost wants to laugh at just how beyond tactless the question is. Instead he settles for making a face and plucks a sliver of ice from the bottom of his cup to flick in Shima's direction. "That's _incredibly_ personal, but no. And don't try to guess because you're never going to get it."

"What if I do?"

"You're not. Trust me."

He can't quite say he's at ease around Shima. Maybe it's just a way to pretend to be someone else for a while. They watch whatever duel is playing on the big screen and Jin points out every poor play he notices. Their conversations eventually turning to Link Vrains itself and Jin isn't surprised when Shima eventually asks, "You ever go?"

"Sometimes." The answer sticks a little in the back of his throat because it's so false. He's still in there every night. Still prowling the Edge, although it's getting harder and harder to find opponents he's developed that much of a reputation.

"What's your handle?"

"Lux."

"That's cool. I go by Brave Max. Playmaker entrusted one of his cards to me once, you know. We have a connection."

"Oh yea?" It takes everything Jin has too keep his voice light, to stop a harsh, bitter, edge from forming over his words as he responds in all the right places to Shima's boasting.

"Do you want to hang out in there sometime? Maybe we could duel."

Something in Jin's gut tightens and goes cold. That vicious part of him gleeful at the prospect of an opponent, someone to tear apart in a moment because there is no possible way Shima would pose even a remote challenge, even as the rest of him shies away from the idea. "I- I don't know...."

"Don't worry. I know it's probably intimidating, the thought of facing someone Playmaker trusts so much but...."

_Just crush him._ It's an insidious hiss in the back of his mind. Some dark (or maybe it's blindingly bright) part of himself that is desperate for a fight drowning out whatever else Shima might be saying. _It won't be satisfying but it's something._

He's so distracted by those vicious thoughts, by the thundering roar of his own heartbeat, that it takes a second to realize Shima has stopped talking and is staring at him in confusion. That he needs to respond before things get even more awkward so he forces a smile -- one that he hopes looks more pleasant than he feels at the moment.

"Maybe. Maybe not dueling but we could hang out. Do you have a board? I spend a lot of time in there exploring, I could probably show you some cool places."

"I guess that's okay. But I'm gonna talk you into a duel someday."

Jin just lets out an edgy laugh and stabs his straw into the slushy mixture of ice and water at the bottom of his cup again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thought process for this chapter amounted to: things need to be less aggressively terrible for five minutes and also Naoki is a treasure and I love him. So we have this.
> 
> (also Lux is probably a terrible handle but I could not think of anything better, I'm running with it)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to forever thank Gale because this chapter involves the entire reason I initially put a "rating may change" tag on this fic, and while talking about what I referred to as "the scene that I have no idea if I want to use or not" with her she brought up a twist on it that was not only way, way better, but also stopped me from ratcheting the rating up into "E" territory. (although I am still bumping it up to 'mature' just to be safe)

It doesn't take long for word to get around on the Edge: stay the hell away from the kid who calls himself Lux. He's a monster, an absolutely merciless force that has torn his way through every single duelist to cross his path and Jin enjoys the reputation to a degree. For a little while some try to take him on in groups, unfair fights that he almost (just almost) loses, wobbling on his feet when it's all over but ultimately triumphant and exhilarated.

Eventually though, even those sorts of challenges dry up and leave Jin roaming the ragged tangle of virtual alleyways that go nowhere, desperate for any kind of a distraction. Soon enough stumbling across quiet little places set up where, for a bit of money, time can be spent with an AI construct. The dumb sort of AI that only knows its program and these ones are programmed to please.

It's something in between morbid curiosity and boredom that pushes him through one of those doors (a bold declaration on the sign next to it insisting that they have the most accurate constructs around) and for a moment Jin is taken aback by just how shadowed and quiet the little notch of VR space he finds himself in is. An empty void where he's faced with nothing but darkness and silence and windows full of menus and price lists.

It's almost enough to throw him into a state of panic. The dark, the emptiness, it's all too much like where he found himself after he and his backup switched and a creeping sort of terror sticks in the back of his throat. His eyes focus on the bright text in front of him, even if he can't quite concentrate enough to read any of it. It's an anchor, a reminder that this isn't quite the same. That he's not six and he's not trapped and he can walk out (log out) at any time.

He's not sure how long he stands there before the text stops swimming in front of his vision and he realizes that he's staring at a list of the hundred most popular constructs available. It unsurprisingly topped by various idols and charisma duelists (although what _is_ shocking is the fact that Playmaker is number three) and Jin finds himself wondering if he's made a mistake just by walking in when he spots his own handle near the bottom of the list.

He hadn't thought he'd become _that_ well known, even if it is only in the sketchy underbelly of Link Vrains and the idea of even a superficial virtual duplicate of him is enough to set that tight flutter of panic loose in his chest again.

He should leave. He _needs_ to leave. On the edge of turning away when one more name, closer to the top, catches his eye.

Revolver.

It only makes sense. If some punk who tears around the Edge dueling (destroying) any unfortunate sucker that crosses his path has enough of a reputation to be worth emulating, it's to be expected that the most well known cyber-terrorist in Link Vrains would be as well.

His skin seems a size too tight and he doesn't notice that his hand has moved until he stops just short of tapping Revolver's name. Not even sure _why_ he's tempted to pay to conjure something like that up. To scream at it? Hit it? Go through the motions of killing it? To try and find the tiniest sliver of revenge he craves so badly he can _taste_ it, all sharp and metallic in the back of his throat.

Which is ridiculous. Link Vrains, rough little Edge and all, is still a carefully programmed virtual illusion. He shouldn't be feeling anything outside of what it's telling him to feel and certainly not any sensations related to his emotional state. He definitely shouldn't be tasting blood.

Even if he did just bite through his lip, things don't bleed in VR.

He doesn't remember pressing down on the menu option, or rushing through any of the followup menus for setting and personality. All he knows is that everything is still dark and silent and empty except for him and a motionless (false) Revolver.

And his hands are around its neck. Squeezing. Tighter and tighter, thumbs pressing down against its windpipe as he hisses (curses, demands) "Fight _back_. Make this worth it."

It doesn't. He didn't set it to.

And when it collapses to the ground he falls with it. Refusing to let go of its throat until time runs out and the construct shimmers and winks back out of existence.

He's never felt emptier.

It's for the best that he's returned to limiting his VR trips to the middle of the night. The absolute last thing he needs is to stumble out of the link compartment feeling like this (hollow and on the edge of tears that just don't want to come) while Shoichi is in the truck and draw even more attention to just how much of a tightrope he's currently walking.

This time, when he collapses into bed, he can't sleep despite the usual exhaustion weighing down his limbs.

 

The next day Jin is snappish and irritable. Positive that Shoichi notices his worse than usual mood, although thankfully his brother doesn't comment on the way Jin is currently brooding. Whether it's out of consideration or because he's afraid of what the response might be Jin doesn't know, nor does he really care. He's being left alone, that's all that matters.

Shima, however, is oblivious as always. Showing up shortly after school lets out and chattering away on at least five different topics, prodding at Jin with a relentless sort of cheer that is almost enough to chase away the shadows of the previous night. He's still overtired, any response he gives clipped and on the edge of annoyed because of it, but he's not thinking about that dark little corner of the Edge or Revolver or any of it.

At least not until Shima asks, "Hey, wanna hang out in Link Vrains tomorrow?" and Jin's chest goes tight and cold, breath caught in the back of his throat for a moment.

It's not like it's an unusual question. Shima's been trying to talk him into bumming around in Link Vrains (and likely a duel alongside it) for the past week. After the previous night it's enough to leave him shaken and Jin smiles, trying to keep his response just as casual and indifferent as he has every other time Shima asked.

"You ask the same thing literally every day and I always say 'no'. You do know that whole thing about the definition of insanity, right?"

"Aw, c'mon. You gotta quit being a stick in the mud eventually. You've still never given me a straight answer for why you don't wanna."

"There isn't really much all to do in there. It's not like I duel much--"

"Yea, that is so the biggest lie ever. I looked your stats up after you told me your handle." Shima grabs his tablet out of his bag and Jin feels a little bit light-headed as a screen full of (arguably impressive) statistics is stuck under his nose. "Almost fifty matches and still undefeated? That's crazy, why're you trying to hide it?"

"It's...." He trails off helplessly, struggling for some kind of easy response before giving the whole thing up as impossible. There is no explanation, not one that will make any amount of sense to someone outside of everything the way Shima is. His voice almost defeated when he mutters, "It's complicated."

"What's complicated? I mean, you duel that much you gotta like it, right?"

Jin's mouth opens to reply, then immediately closes again. Not quite sure how to respond to Shima's casual declaration if only because there's some truth to it. He _does_ enjoy dueling, just not in a way that could be considered normal, or sensible, or healthy. He enjoys pain and victory and the rush of adrenaline both of those things bring.

"Fine," he mumbles after a moment. "We'll meet up in there tomorrow if you want. But I'm still not dueling you." _You wouldn't be worth the trouble,_ hisses in the back of his mind and he almost, almost, says it out loud before catching himself. His teeth sinking into his lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin again.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic about it."

Jin shrugs, throat too tight to say anything else. It's not like responding will make a difference. Shima will happily ignore the silence and push the conversation onward. Something that Jin is thankful for.

As expected, after only the slightest lull, Shima starts complaining about school and how he nearly failed the last math test. A topic that is bland and safe and Jin makes vague noises about maybe helping him study just to keep the conversation focused on that for a while. Some small part of him hoping that if he can keep them from discussing it any further, maybe Shima will forget all about the promised meetup in Link Vrains.

A hope that is dashed when Shima stands to leave and says, "So, tomorrow instead of coming here I'll just go home and log in. We can meet up by the shops." His face scrunches in annoyance. "I don't know how much fun it'll be without dueling though."

"You're the one who wants to hang out in there, it's only fair I get to pick what we do," Jin shoots back, forcing an easiness he doesn't quite feel into his tone. "It's not like I want to go to begin with. My brother gets weird about me spending time in VR."

"Really? Why?"

For a moment all Jin can do is suck in a sharp breath, silently cursing the fact that he brought it up at all even if it is the truth. Desperate to find some kind of reasonable explanation before he settles on, "He just worries a lot. My whole family fusses too much. Because of the whole... hospitalized thing."

The best lies are the ones rooted in truth and it would be impossible to get much closer to the truth than that.

"Oh." Shima rocks back on his heels, shifting his school bag from one hand to the other. "Are you sure you're okay with it, then? I mean, if it's gonna cause a problem--"

It's the perfect out. All he has to do is say that he shouldn't. That he'd have to talk Shoichi into it which might take a while. Shima would let the whole thing go without question. Hell, he'd probably drop the whole thing for months.

Instead Jin says, "Don't worry about it," his voice strange and almost unrecognizable in his ears as he does.

 

The thing Jin doesn't expect is for his reputation from the Edge to follow him and while idling in Link Vrains the next afternoon he winds up with no less than five people asking if he's "actually Lux". All but one of which he manages to brush off. The last one pushes and prods until he's backed into a duel that, although it's over quickly, will only fuel the rumors.

At the very least it's taken care of before Shima shows up and he's back to idling, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible, when the other boy strolls up with a "there you are!" that causes Jin to flinch. His eyes darting over the crowd milling around them just to be sure that Shima hasn't drawn too much attention to them.

"Yea. Here I am. Can we get out of here? You said you had a d-board, right?"

Shima's d-board is recognizable one of the fancier models available and he's (unsurprisingly) unsteady on it. Wobbling a little at any speed faster than what would be a brisk walk on foot and Jin chafes at having to slow down to keep pace with him.

"Did you literally just buy that thing?"

"No! I've had it for a- a little while."

"Soooo, right after I asked if you had one you ran home and bought it."

"I mean--" Shima shrugs, the motion enough to throw off his balance yet again and leave him struggling to stay upright for a moment before he steadies himself. "I just didn't have a reason to get one before. That's all."

"I'm not judging. I just wish you'd practiced a bit before asking to hang out." He grins. "Or do you want to spend the whole day with me teaching you the ropes?"

"I'm fine. Where did you want to go anyway? Most places we can just transit to, can't we."

"Not up there." Jin points towards the floating islands that dot the open expanse of artificial sky like clouds.

"No, I'm pretty sure there's a portal up to the main islands."

"Who said anything about the main ones?" A grin splits Jin's face, the usual ease that comes with being in VR settling over him now that he's away from the crowds. "I told you, I explore a lot. I know some good places up there to watch speed duels from. A perfect view and nobody else around, it's paradise."

"If you like it so much how come you didn't want to come in here?"

"It's--" The word comes out as a strangled croak, hesitant and unsteady as Jin struggles to find an answer that at the very least makes sense without having to actually explain."I figured you'd want to duel and hang around in the public areas. Which is about as far away from where I want to be in here as possible."

"Oh." Shima frowns for a moment, lost in thought until he nearly overbalances and has to stop himself from falling again. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"It seemed easier to say no." With a vague wave of his hand Jin brushes the whole conversation aside. His attention moving to his duel disc, and the small glowing cube of a program that appears in midair after a few button presses. A cube that he flicks towards Shima with a casual, "I just remembered. You should install this."

"What is it?"

"There's an invisible wall about halfway up. That program'll get you through it."

"Won't- we get in trouble for that?"

"Only if we get caught," Jin replies with an indifference that causes Shima to gape at him for a moment until Jin shrugs it off with a lazy, "Relax. I've been doing this for months and haven't been found out. You're not going to get banned or anything, I promise."

"Better not."

"If it happens, I'll just break in and undo it."

"Why is everything coming out of your mouth right now so totally illegal?"

Jin shrugs and aims his d-board upwards, unconcerned if Shima follows him or not. His eyes mostly focused on one of the lower islands just past the boundary, although he still checks behind him every so often. To make sure there's no security around is what he tells himself, although he's somewhat satisfied to see that Shima is still following.

The spot he picked out is one of the first few he'd discovered. One that he wouldn't mind too terribly if anyone else was to find it and after he touches down Jin settles into a sitting position on the edge of the platform. His legs swinging over the gulf of open space beneath him and not for the first time he wonders what it would be like to fall that far.

It's something he never really wondered about before becoming human again, but before he didn't have to worry about biofeedback spiking through his brain and leaving him a vegetable. He just _was_ and nothing could hurt him short of being torn up and lost in raw streams of data. Now there's a strange sort of wildness inside him, something that flutters against his breastbone and dares him to jump.

Something that maybe wonders, just a little bit, what it would be like to die.

"Hey!"

Jin starts at the sensation of Shima's hand clamping down on his shoulder, suddenly aware of just how far forward he's leaning. His voice a little bit unsteady as he asks, "What's up?"

"That ain't funny." Shima gives Jin's arm a halfhearted tug and with a sigh Jin slides a few feet back from the edge. "What's with you? You're not usually like this."

"We've only been hanging out for a couple weeks. Can you really say you know what's normal for me?"

"I dunno. But you're definitely acting different right now."

"And what if I said this is the way I actually am?"

"Then-- I don't know. Are you okay? This is weird."

"I'm fine. I come up here a lot, you know."

"Do you usually almost bail off the side?"

"I haven't yet. Even if I did I could catch myself on my board."

Shima makes a face but doesn't respond and Jin changes the subject. Pointing out a speed duel going on below them even as he wonders if this whole thing was a mistake. He can't fake being someone else -- being _human_ \-- well enough in here and whatever ease he feels around Shima is likely going to fray and fall apart. It's inevitable.

It's what his mind whispers, but Shima seems oblivious to his sombre mood. Back to chattering happily about how incredibly _cool_ it all is and, "I get why you come up here. You're sure we won't get caught?" A level of excitement that is almost infectious and Jin finds himself smiling as he responds.

"As long as you don't go running around telling people about it, yea."

It might collapse eventually, but he'll cling to this scrap of normality with everything he has.


	6. Chapter 6

If one good thing comes from Shima's insistence that Jin hang out with him in Link Vrains, it's that it puts the two halves he feels like he's been cleaved into closer together. He's not quite whole, he's not sure if he ever will be, but he can almost imagine what it's like to be a person and not some strange jagged thing that is overwhelmed by his own heartbeat.

The downside is that like most regular users the length of Shima's logins are limited and Jin has to pretend that he hasn't cracked and disabled that particular safeguard on his own account. When Shima says, "Aw man, has it been that long already?" Jin acts like he's seeing the same warning and says his goodbyes. Moving to log out and stopping just short when Shima's avatar vanishes in that familiar wave of blue.

A couple hours are never quite enough for Jin, and after Shima is gone he finds himself lingering. On the upper levels at first, after that night with the false Revolver he swore up and down that he'd never go back to the Edge.

It doesn't last.

The second time he heads down and into that tucked away little hollow of virtual space the smothering darkness doesn't bother him quite as much and he pays closer attention to the menus in front of him (as well as carefully working his way around the need to pay) and this time when he lashes out the construct fights back. Still not enough, but it's the sort of fight that Jin has been craving ever since the decent duels dried up. Something that will cause enough of a rush to leave him wrung out and maybe he'll be exhausted enough to actually sleep come nightfall.

After that it's like a seal has been broken.

The fifth time he loads up the Playmaker construct. His heart caught somewhere in his throat as he taps all the appropriate options and stares into those too-green eyes for a good minute before breaking its nose. The breath he'd been holding (does he even need to breathe in here?) rushing out of his lungs in a satisfied sigh at the sensation of cartilage snapping under his knuckles. Something that shouldn't feel as good as it does.

The time after that he picks himself.

It's a little cruder than the others. Not quite right and likely pieced together from whispers and rumours as opposed to ones like Playmaker, where there would be at least some video to work off of. To anyone who bothers to use it it's probably fine, but to Jin it's so strange and obviously false his skin crawls.

It's blank and unmoving with no personality settings in place and a manic bubble of laughter builds in the back of Jin's throat. He acted like this once. A few appearance tweaks -- fix the spots where it doesn't look quite like him and dress it up in white and gold and violet -- and it would be just the same. Except actually empty and pliant instead of faking it just because he had to (he had to he had to he _had to_ ). How often had he repeated those words before he finally had his chance?

His chance that Playmaker ruined.

Customization costs extra, but it's not like he's actually paying and he spends far more time than he should making it _just so_.

And then he slits its throat.

It's not something he's supposed to be able to do but Jin is good at doing things he's not supposed to in the network. Managing to give himself a weapon in some cheap little VR brothel is the least of the things he's capable of, even without being as absolutely immersed in the digital as he once was. And for the rest of his allotted time he sits next to his own unmoving body and laughs until his throat aches and ragged giggles give way to a soft hiccupping that might be a sob.

Just like the first time, he doesn't manage to sleep well that night either.

In the midst of all of this Jin becomes painfully aware of the fact that Shoichi has begun trying to keep an eye on him whenever he's in Link Vrains. A scratching sensation of being watched that creeps up his spine and tingles at the back of his neck. He's not like Fujiki, he doesn't quite have anything like that Link Sense where he can feel the pulse of the network from the outside. But from the inside....

Inside he understands, and understands _everything_. After ten years immersed in it the network almost feels like an extension of him and he knows when something is off. The sensation of someone checking in on what he's doing is a special kind of wrongness that leaves him all but humming with awareness and he can tell that Shoichi's digital fingerprints are all over it.

Fortunately the first time it happens is when he's still on his way out to the Edge and he quickly makes a detour back into the continually under construction higher levels. Eventually finding a small floating platform that he sprawls out on like he's relaxing and after a while the edgy tenseness fades.

Not that he takes the chance of heading into Link Vrains' underbelly after that, and when he steps out of the link compartment a few hours later he can't stop himself from glaring in Shoichi's direction. Something that causes Shoichi to shift nervously and glance away, indicating that Jin was absolutely right in his assessment.

He's being checked up on and he needs to be careful.

Although god knows it's tempting to give his nosy brother an eyeful of just what he gets up to. Idly curious of just what the reaction would be, even if he doesn't quite have the guts to be that blatant. Instead he's far more cautious about when he slips away to the Edge and sets up careful little decoy programs that will show Shoichi exactly what he expects to see: his brother quietly whiling away the hours in some solitary part of Link Vrains.

It's not surprising that eventually he gets caught. Somewhere in the back of Jin's mind he'd always known that it was more a matter of "when" than "if" but it still leaves him panicky when it happens. He's already in that dark little room when the itch starts at the base of his spine and begins to crawl its way upward. Too late to set up a decoy, maybe not quite too late to back out other than the fact that he's already halfway through making his choices and already set up the payment workaround. Not to mention the fact that he's been seen and Shoichi has likely figured out exactly what this place is so there's not much point to trying to hide it.

May as well try to scare him off.

He boldly finishes setting his options (it's Playmaker this time, may as well go big when it comes to being shocking) and expects the itch on the back of his neck to skitter away the instant the construct loads in. Shoichi _has_ to know what something like this is normally for. Even if Jin doesn't use them for anything close to their intended purpose, there's no way his brother could know that.

Except the itch doesn't fade, not right away. It hesitates just a little bit too long (in shock maybe? Disbelief?) and for a moment it feels like a match of chicken. A contest of who will blink first.

Then the false Playmaker takes a swing at him, just as instructed, and it doesn't matter because this is the dance Jin wanted. Not the one that this place is meant for but that's fine. Jin is laughing as he fights back like a wild thing and by the time he has the construct on the ground (straddling its chest as he cracks its skull on the floor again and again and again) the sensation of being watched is gone.

And when he comes out of the link compartment Shoichi is nowhere to be found.

 

"Maybe," Shoichi begins one evening as they wash dishes after shutting the truck down for the night. "Maybe you should go live with Mom and Dad."

Jin freezes, his head swimming a little and for a moment all he can hear is his heart thundering in his ears. Stupid distracting physical reactions that make him want to dive into VR where things are smooth and stable again. It takes a few moments for him to steady himself enough to shoot back, "What if I don't want to?" his voice all harsh and breathy.

"You should," Shoichi repeats as if that is enough of a reason, and Jin's hands tighten around the coffee cup he's currently drying. "I know I wanted you here, but it would probably be better for you overall to get out of the city proper."

"Or is it better for you to not have me around."

"Jin...."

"Why didn't you stop watching right away?" The question tears its way past that sorry excuse for an internal filter he has and this time Shoichi is the one to go still and pale. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows (once, twice) obviously surprised at being caught out.

"How- how did you--"

"I lived in there for ten years, _big brother_." The words come out like a curse, harsh and bitter on his tongue. "I can tell when things are different and it's not too hard to pick up on being watched by someone as clumsy about it as you. So why didn't you stop? It was pretty obvious just what kind of a place I was in even before I started up one of the constructs. What the hell were you expecting to see?"

Shoichi's jaw clenches. "I have no idea. I was worried about what you were getting up to but--"

"Now you know. And I guess you can't handle it, huh? This is probably the last thing you expected to have to deal with."

"Jin--"

"What do you even see when you look at me?" Jin cuts him off. Dizzy and breathless and far too wound up to stop now. "The thing that stole away whatever idealized version of Jin that lived in your head? An enemy who nearly killed Fujiki? Just a stranger? What am I?!"

_What am I?_ It's been gnawing at him for months now. As much as he hated his life before at least it had made sense. He'd had a purpose. He was going to destroy the Cyberse and all the Ignises and grind whatever remnants of the Hanoi Project that existed into dust. There may have not been much in the way of plans for afterwards, but he'd at least understood himself and what he wanted and how he fit into the world.

Now he has no idea anymore. Everything is sideways and off. Half the time he doesn't feel real. He's not even sure if he's a person anymore. And his supposedly caring brother....

He sure as hell isn't helping any.

A curse slips past Jin's lips, ragged and raw, as he twists away. The cup that was in his hands cracking against the floor with the sharp sound of shattered glass as he turns towards the link compartment and the calm solitude it provides. He needs it. He needs somewhere that he isn't all too aware of the beat of his heart and the way his breath rasps in and out of his lungs and he feels far more human in there than he has since getting his body back.

He'll just go into Link Vrains for a little bit. Just long enough to calm down.

Or he would. Except for Shoichi's hand closing around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey. Don't--"

"I'm not going back to the Edge if that's what you're thinking," Jin chokes out, trying to tug his arm free of Shoichi's firm grip. "I just need to clear my head. Everything out here is just-- it's too _much_." A hollow laugh slips past his lips. "Is that another reason you want me to go to Mom and Dad's? Because you know I won't be able to log in as easily from there?"

"It's likely better for you in the long run if you don't."

"And who are you to say what's best for me?"

"Someone who's worried about you."

"Fuck you." There's no heat behind the words. He's too tired. So goddamn tired that he doesn't want to fight about this. He just wants to get away, back into the virtual, where maybe he can _think_. "Fuck you and your 'I'm just concerned' card. You had no right to spy on me. None."

"I know."

"So _why_?"

"I've been trying to make sense of you." Shoichi releases Jin's wrist and his hands rake through his hair in an edgy, frustrated, motion. "You want to know what I see when I look at you? Well, I don't know. That's what you've wanted to hear this whole time, isn't it? I just don't know. All I know is that the only Jin I've known for the past ten years is dead and now you're here in his place."

An icy pit settles in Jin's stomach. "He wasn't real."

"He seemed real enough to me." An uneven sigh slips past Shoichi's lips and he turns back towards the dishes remaining in the sink. "Go head into Link Vrains if you want. It's where you're happy, isn't it?"

For a moment Jin is frozen. Unable to move in one direction or the other and knowing, deep down, that this is far more important of a decision than simply staying or storming off in a huff. That as far as Shoichi is concerned, this is acknowledging where he honestly believes he belongs.

"You have no idea what I've been through."

Jin turns away, although not quite fast enough. He still sees Shoichi's hands tighten on the edge of the sink and hears him mutter "I could say the same to you," although he ignores it.

He shuts himself into the link compartment and logs in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the "I have been writing and re-writing this particular part for _months_ and it probably shows because it is a mess" portion of the story.


	7. Chapter 7

As promised (although did he really promise?) Jin doesn't head to the Edge. Instead he heads up, as high as he can go. To where the sky stops resembling an actual sky and begins to more obviously look like the skybox it is. A far flung spot where no one goes. Where no one is supposed to go.

Where one of the gates to the reconstructed Cyberse World is hidden away.

It's been months now but the trick to opening them is still the same. Which strikes Jin as incredibly stupid, but then he's probably the only human who can manage to find them at all, let alone open them properly. The only one attuned enough that he can make out the fuzzy outlines of all the little entrance points -- although maybe if he tried Fujiki could as well -- and was taught how they work.

Not that he enters it. The fact that he opened it at all will likely get someone's attention. There might be a little bit of discussion after that but sooner or later....

"What are you doing?"

He's a little surprised that Lightning is the one to be sent. That anyone would trust the two of them alone together after everything that happened. Although maybe they're not alone. He can't feel anything as obvious as the way Shoichi watches but he wouldn't be surprised in the least if someone else inside the Cyberse World is keeping an eye on them.

"Well?" Lightning prompts, shaking Jin out of his thoughts and for a moment he's frozen. He wants to say something flippant. Something breezy and indifferent like: "I'm coming home" or "just visiting for a bit, don't mind me." He wants to smile daringly (viciously) and complain about how stupid and annoying physical bodies are and how things are so much better here.

"Shoichi hates me for killing his brother."

What comes out is a voice that is on the razor's edge of breaking followed by a hollow, wavering, smile.

Lightning's head tilts to the side, one way and then the other, as he examines Jin's face in confusion. "I was under the impression that you are his brother."

"Biologically, maybe. But the way he sees it the only brother he knew for half his life is dead and now he has me. That's what he said."

"I'm-- certain he doesn't mean that."

Lightning's words are just as hollow as Jin's. Just as awkward and halting and Jin knows that he's only saying what he thinks is the appropriate thing to say. Empty words that he assumes humans consider comforting even if he doesn't quite understand why.

Jin is in no mood for cold comfort. Especially not from something that doesn't understand emotion.

"Doesn't he? We're strangers. By this point Playmaker is more a brother to him than I am." His lips twist into a sneer, the next words that slip out venomous. "And that _thing_ that was in my body was more real to him than me. He acts like he cares about me but he let it slip last night.

"I suppose it's not an incorrect assessment," Lightning murmurs, his eyes narrowed in thought. "To a degree you are, or were in the backup's case, both real."

Jin is sorely tempted to swat Lightning's hovering form out into the open space next to the platform, just to see if he'd plummet. "Yea, I read those books too. It's where I got the names for your little pet project from, remember?"

"Then why be so irrational about it?"

This time Jin does take a halfhearted swing at Lightning, who drops to the platform to avoid it. "Of course _you_ wouldn't get it. Why did you come out here, anyway? I wouldn't think anyone would trust the two of us alone."

"That's a question I should be asking you. But to answer, I was sent because I am your ' _partner_ ' and the Dark Ignis--"

"Why aren't you using his name?" Jin can't stop himself from murmuring, even though he knows the answer, and Lightning's normally placid face crinkles in response.

Lightning never cared for the idea of a name that humans could understand. He acted like he accepted it but in the end it was all a lie (like most things Lightning said) told in an attempt to gain confidence and trust. Jin knows his true name and can understand the Ignis language in the same way he knows how to find and open the gates, the same way he could feel Shoichi spying on him. He was immersed for long enough that he knows but can't quite vocalize it. Like a lot of things about the digital he feels it all in his blood and bones (or maybe the electric pulse of his mind is more apt) but can't find the proper words.

He can never find the proper words. For anything. Not anymore. Maybe he never could.

"Those aren't their names," Lightning says, his annoyed tone snapping Jin out of his reverie. "Out of all humans you should understand that."

"They consider them just as good as their true names. And it's not like you're talking to me in Ignis-speak right now."

"It makes sense for us to speak the same language when communicating and since you can't vocalize in Ignis I may as well lower myself to your language. Even if I were to speak Ignis we both know you could never keep up. Your ability to comprehend has likely deteriorated now that you're attached to that mortal form instead of pulling processing power from the network."

"Am I supposed to be insulted by that?"

"You could take it as one, although it's simply the truth."

"Well, it's not like I'm all that thrilled by any of it either. It's the worst part of the whole thing." A bitter grin touches his lips as something occurs to him. "How long do you think I could stay in here before my body dies?"

"Roughly three days before you dehydrate, and I would not recommend it. You're linked to that body again, what happens to it happens to you."

"You could always pull me out of it."

"Not alone. The others have made certain of that."

"I know. I was kidding. I'd rather stop existing entirely than be completely stuck in here again." Even as he says it, Jin isn't sure if it's the truth. Not anymore. With a heavy sigh he leans back, eyes fluttering closed as he tilts his face towards the artificial sun that's still beaming despite how late at night it is in reality. "It doesn't matter. Is Ai seriously pushing that whole 'partner' thing about _us_?"

"He holds a great deal of stock in the concept. We are connected. You are obviously troubled. Therefore I should be the one to speak with you about it."

"Okay. Ai pushing for it I can understand, and maybe Flame and Aqua too. But the other two?"

"They trust the other's judgement."

"Even Windy?"

"His opinion holds about as much sway as mine at the moment, as such he's inclined to go with the flow. As am I."

"So, what? Ai pushing for you to come out here is the equivalent of you drawing the short straw?"

"In a sense. I'd much rather he was out here talking to you than me. You did attempt to kill me, after all."

"I tried to kill both of you. And I still want to." A cold smile twitches at the edge of Jin's lips. "I could cheerfully kill all of you, you know."

"No you couldn't. It's impossible for you to destroy all of us at once, especially as you currently are. Any one of us escaping would lead to Playmaker finding out and he would interfere. And you're nowhere near strong enough to stop him. As has been proven."

"Don't be all literal like an asshole. I know you're smarter than that." Jin rolls his eyes heavenward. "I'm just saying if I _was_ capable, I wouldn't think twice."

Silence falls and a vague sense of unease crawls its way across Jin's skin. If there's one thing he and Shoichi have in common it's a visceral dislike of quiet and before he knows it Jin finds himself blurting, "I came up here because it's familiar."

There is no response, not even a vague noise of acknowledgement, and Jin continues rambling. The words tripping over one another to chase away the silence, "I keep telling myself that I hated it in here, that I hated Cyberse, that I wanted to see all of it torn apart. But in some ways everything in here is like _home_ and I just--" His voice chokes to an uneven halt. "We're both mistakes, aren't we?"

Lightning visibly _twitches_ at that, finally showing a reaction. His voice as even as ever, but holding a deadly edge to it as he says, "Speak for yourself," and Jin wants to laugh, latching on to that fragment of weakness.

"It kills you, doesn't it?" A cold smile curls at the edges of Jin's lips, even as Lightning frowns at him. "That you're the one who's really an error. You like to think that you're perfect, but you never learned off of a real person, at least not entirely. Next to the rest of them you're barely a step above the dumb sort of AIs that can only do what they're programmed."

It takes a moment for Jin to realize what happens next. Lightning twists and morphs into his rarely seen more monstrous form, one tentacle wrapping tightly around Jin's throat as the rest flip and pin him against the smooth platform they're seated on. A row of sharp fangs bare inches from Jin's face.

For a second Jin can't speak, his heart caught somewhere in his throat out of pure instinctual panic from being held down by something so viciously alien. A sensation he chokes back and hides behind a daring grin. "This is the most emotion I think I've ever seen out of you."

"Watch yourself, 'Lux.'" The warning comes out as a hissing growl and Jin can't help but laugh in what currently passes for Lightning's face.

"Or what? Are you going to try to kill me? I suppose we are far enough out of Link Vrains proper that if you bit my head off right now the biofeedback might be strong enough to finish me off."

"Don't tempt me."

"Why not? It's not like you have it in you to go through with it. Even if I'm not what he wanted it would still hurt my brother, which would hurt Playmaker, which would upset _Ai_ , and we can't have that. Can we?"

Another hiss, then Lightning's tentacles retreat. His body shrinks back into its humanoid form, allowing Jin to sit upright once more.

"I knew it."

"Were you really that confident, or just that suicidal?"

Jin hesitates, just for a second. Long enough that Lightning's chin lifts in a smug sort of triumph and Jin scowls in return. Fighting to keep his tone light and indifferent as he shoots back a lazy, "Does it really matter?" in return. "You still backed down."

"Your brother is right to be concerned about you. Your behaviour has become erratic."

"You say that like you have even the slightest idea about how humans think."

"I know enough. And I know you. We're _partners_ , after all."

"Hardly. You learned off of a fake."

"Keep pressing, Jin. Maybe I will finish the job someday."

"Not if I finish you first," Jin shoots back, trying to act as if he's not running as he summons up his d-board.

It was a mistake to come up here. A mistake to open the gate. A mistake to hang around and try to engage Lightning in any sort of conversation at all.

Everything he does, everything about him, is a mistake. Something that is only becoming more and more evident the more he keeps trying.

When he finally decides to log out, Jin doesn't leave the link compartment. He simply curls up against the closest wall and tries to sleep.

 

The next morning Jin wakes up cold and with an aching neck, all too aware of the sound of his brother moving around just outside the door. The uncomfortable way his stomach growls the only thing that stops him from logging right back into Link Vrains.

Shoichi doesn't turn at all when Jin slips out of the link compartment and pours himself a cup of coffee. Doesn't turn, doesn't say a word, and the silence is thick enough to leave Jin panicky and struggling to breathe. His hands trembling as he takes furtive sips in an attempt to warm himself and he wonders if maybe he should say something when Shoichi speaks first.

"You think you could set things up outside for me?"

It's so quiet, so _normal_ , so completely oblivious to the harsh words that were spit back and forth the previous evening that Jin almost wants to scream. His hands frozen just short of taking another sip as he studies the tense line of his brother's back.

There's any number of things he wants to say: a continuation of the argument from the previous night, an apology, at least six different variants on telling him off, but instead Jin nods and mumbles, "Just let me finish my coffee."

Shoichi hums in response. His attention still mostly focused on the morning preparations, and for a moment Jin thinks that will be the end of it. He'll finish his coffee, he'll set up the tables and the sign outside, and then he can sit there and fake studying for the rest of the day. He can escape this too-delicate tension and maybe by the time the day is done they'll both be better at pretending the previous night's argument didn't happen. Everything can even out again.

That's too much to hope for though.

"Mom's been nagging at me for us to come visit," Shoichi blurts just as the silence reaches that breathless level of awkwardness once more. "I told her maybe sometime this month."

Jin can feel adrenaline pulse through him, slamming against the "flight" portion of that fight or flight reflex. The whole thing leaving him a little light-headed as he chokes out, "Why?" and Shoichi shrugs.

"I couldn't put her off much longer. She and Dad haven't seen you since you woke up. They miss you."

"Do they actually miss me or do they miss...." He snaps his mouth shut before he can finish the sentence, but it's still enough. Enough for Shoichi to turn around, his cheeks flushed with the same anger from the previous night and he rasps out Jin's name in warning.

"I know, I know." Jin sets his mug down on the counter and glances towards the truck's door, wishing he could just make a break for it and leave this whole conversation behind. "I wouldn't say anything like that around them, don't worry."

"Do you even want to see them at all?"

"I-- do. Kind of. I just don't know what to say to them. Or how to act."

"I get that. But can't you just--"

"Try?" Jin finishes for him, the smile that forces its way onto his face tight and awkward. "That's all I have been doing. Trying to act like a person. But I can't." He lets out a ragged breath, his steps stiff and awkward as he moves towards the door. "Just-- the end of the month. We can go at the end of the month. Okay?"

"I'm holding you to it."

Jin nods and pushes his way outside, sucking in lungful after lungful of the crisp morning air like he'd just surfaced from the bottom of a lake. Uncertain if he's made a mistake or not. Odds are good he has (it's all a mistake, everything about him is a mistake) but there's no going back on it. All he can do is continue staggering forward like always.


	8. Chapter 8

The next week passes in a haze that Jin stumbles through, similar to when he first found himself back in reality again. Everything around him so sharp and vibrant and _there_ that it wraps back around to unreal. Jin quiet and subdued enough that Shoichi asks more than once if he's okay, growing only more concerned as the days slip past.

Every time Jin responds with a tight smile and a nod. There's nothing else he can say.

If Shima notices the shift in Jin's attitude (and given the way Shima is, that's highly questionable) he doesn't say anything. He still comes by the plaza when the truck is parked there and suggests hanging out in Link Vrains every few days, something that Jin shrugs in response to and goes along with.

At the very least Shoichi has stopped checking up on him every time he logs in. Maybe he's finally realized it's futile.

It's late in the afternoon, the pair of them whiling the time away in one of their usual spots in Link Vrains, when Shima asks if he wants to duel. A question he's not unused to, but for the first time Jin hesitates instead of dismissing the offer outright. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he takes stock of the platform they're currently seated on. It's a little on the small side, but there's just enough space for a master duel.

And it's been _weeks_ since he's dueled. A realization that causes a sharp thrill of anticipation to dart through Jin's veins at the suggestion alone.

"We're technically outside of Link Vrains here." He's careful to keep the faint rush he's feeling hidden under an air of indifference. "Biofeedback is stronger."

Shima freezes at that and it's painfully obvious from his expression alone just how much he's second-guessing himself now that Jin is actually entertaining the idea. His chin lifting after a moment and he chokes out, "T- that's fine. I'm not worried."

_You should be,_ hisses in the back of Jin's brain. Something he pushes down as he shrugs and gets to his feet.

"Then I guess I can give you a match if you really want one."

The duel ends as quickly as it starts. The strike that finishes off Shima's life points strong enough that it almost sends him flying from the platform, a curse caught in the back of Jin's throat as he sprints to the other boy's side. He knows he should have held back, although the thought leaves him on the edge of panic. Even when there is no risk of loss the idea of not fighting tooth and nail for survival is foreign. Going easy is like giving up and giving up means losing. Starving. A jolt of pain that left him alone in the dark and watching himself from the outside....

He forces that panicked train of thought away as he kneels next to Shima, fighting to keep his voice as steady and impassive as usual as he asks, "You okay?"

What he can see of Shima's face under the mask is pale, his breathing harsh and ragged, and an apology is on the tip of Jin's tongue when Shima suddenly grins up at him.

"That was so _cool_!"

Jin's brain hitches for a second, all but stutters as he tries to wrap his thoughts around Shima's reaction. Losing _hurts_. Depending on how high the feedback is tuned and what safeguards are in place it can hurt even more, or be flat out dangerous. The thought of smiling and chattering excitedly after a defeat is unfathomable.

But that's what Shima is doing. Rambling a mile a minute about how _awesome_ that was and, "I don't know why you don't duel more often. You're good enough, I bet you could get a sponsor really easy. You could be famous."

The constant stream of chatter is enough to leave Jin light headed. His breath caught in the back of his throat as his find fumbles for a response. Something that will make Shima _stop_ long enough for Jin to get a handle on the conversation again.

"So, what? Am I cooler than Playmaker?"

Just as Jin hoped that question is enough to stop Shima short, and his brow furrows as he considers it. "Well, let's not get crazy. You're awesome but Playmaker is _amazing_."

_I almost beat him once._ It's on the tip of Jin's tongue, the words sharp and arrogant. _You have no idea how close I came to winning and if I had we wouldn't be sitting here right now._

Instead he lets a mild sound of agreement slip free and murmurs, "So I've heard. Several times. Mostly from you."

"I mean, I only say it 'cause it's true."

"You're such a fanboy weirdo."

"Hey, if you became a charisma duelist you'd have fans too. I could be your first and tell everyone I knew you before you were famous."

Jin just rolls his eyes and gives Shima a shove to cover how strange and twitchy that thought leaves him. He's already famous (infamous) to a degree out on the Edge and parts of that infamy is already starting to bleed into Link Vrains proper. The idea of becoming even more well known within the network....

"That sounds like a nightmare and we're going to drop this entire conversation."

"Fiiine." There is roughly ten seconds of awkward silence, an annoyed scowl creasing Shima's brow, before it is broken by him asking, "Not that I really _need_ the help or anything, but what did you think of my deck?"

Jin's shoulder moves in a half-hearted shrug. "It's passable." A slight smile touching his lips at Shima's (entirely expected) outburst of, "What do you mean just 'passable'? It's got all my best cards!" in response.

 

The end of the month comes sooner than Jin would like. The remaining days blurred together into one long uniform smudge in his mind, a smudge that ends with him staring absently out the truck's window while Shoichi navigates the streets to their parents' house.

In that moment he'd rather be anywhere else. A sensation that only intensifies the instant he steps through the front door and his mother hugs him. Everything too tight and claustrophobic to the point where he wants to scream and the smile Jin forces onto his face is a stiff, plastic, thing.

He wonders if anyone even notices just how false and strange his actions are. Shoichi probably does, his smiles are almost as mechanical as Jin's in some ways. Tight and awkward as he says, "Yea, everything's great. Right, Jin?" and Jin nods, feeling a little bit like a puppet. His head bobbing obediently with the slightest tug of a string.

It takes ten minutes before Jin has to retreat, mumbling something vague about needing air, and the looks aimed in his direction are a tangled up mess of sad and perplexed but strangely understanding to the point where he wants to scream. His own expression still frozen in an absent smile as he all but flees from the room.

He can't say why he goes upstairs, to his old room. Maybe he expects to feel something. A connection, however faint, to a boy that all but died ten years before lingering in the space he once shared with his brother.

It's more similar than expected. He may have been gone but Shoichi was still there -- still living, still growing -- and Jin expected his own things, the trappings of a childhood cut short, to have long since been packed away. Hidden from sight to blunt the pain associated with them, if only a little.

Instead it's like a line has been drawn down the center of the room. One half frozen in time, eerily still and undisturbed under a layer of dust that leaves him loath to even breathe near it. A line Jin finds himself hesitant to step across and he carefully pokes through Shoichi's things first. The few things that remain, at least. A handful of slightly out of date books on coding, a box of computer parts, and not a single scrap of the brother he just barely remembers. The one that used to complain about being stuck inside studying when he'd much rather be doing _anything_ else.

But then, Jin is all too aware that there is nothing left of the boy he once was either.

He's breathless, a little light headed, as he steps over to the other side of the room. The constant reminder that Shoichi had dealt with day after day and he wonders why none of it was ever packed away. Why they left it all _waiting_ for him like this. A box of dusty toys sitting on the floor near the end of the bed, a binder of cards sitting on the desk, a backpack slung over the back of a chair.

All of it waiting for a boy who never came home. Not really.

"Jin?" Shoichi's voice is low and careful, coming from just inside the door, and Jin stiffens a little at the sound. His own voice hoarse and uncertain as he replies.

"Yea?"

"Mom was wondering where you got off to. Dinner's almost ready."

"I'll be right down."

A glance over his shoulder shows that Shoichi hasn't moved and Jin frowns. Snaps, "What?" The harshness enough to make Shoichi flinch.

"I was just wondering what you're even doing in here."

"Thinking." Jin reaches out, his fingers stopping just short of making contact with the top of the desk, hesitant to leave marks on the layer of dust there. "It's almost like I died, isn't it? This whole side of the room is like a memorial for someone that's never coming back."

"It was never supposed to be. We were really hoping you'd get better. That one day you'd be okay. Or maybe we wanted to wake up and find out the whole thing was a nightmare."

"I guess we all have that in common. Everything still feels like a nightmare to me."

Shoichi says nothing and Jin forces a smile, turning his back on the strange frozen tableau that used to be his bedroom. "Let's go. Might as well head back down before I worry them more than I already have."

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Okay enough that I can fake it for the rest of the night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wound up on the short side for how long it took me to finish it. I really feel kind of bad about that.


	9. Chapter 9

The question is one that Jin expects. One that's constantly lurking behind Shoichi's concerned expression and is hanging thick in the silence between careful conversations over dinner. Not that knowing it's inevitable makes it any easier to answer and when his father finally broaches the topic -- just as Jin is starting to wonder how much longer the night can go on -- his throat goes tight to the point where he can barely breathe.

"New school year will be starting in a few months."

There's a forced casualness to the words. Like everyone is trying their hardest to pretend that the last ten years didn't happen. Like Jin isn't miraculously alert and aware after a decade of near catatonia and all he can do is play along with it. Hum faintly in agreement and nod. Jerky puppet movements again, not that he can do much else. He certainly can't speak, not with the way his throat's closed off.

The statements that follow are carefully needling things. No one outright asks, "Are you going to go to school next year?" No one says, "You should." Everything is delicate hypotheticals and vague suggestions prefaced with, "If you're feeling up to it." Jin shrugs and nods along and manages to choke out a, "maybe," just like he has on other occasions.

They take it as enough, but there's a certain amount of expectation underneath it all even as things move back towards benign topics.

He's exhausted by the time the night ends, slouched in the passenger's seat during the drive back to Shoichi's apartment and leaning heavily against the window. Eyes unfocused to the point where all he can see is vague smudges of light sweeping past.

Silence fills the cab, breathless and tense, until Shoichi manages to break it. His voice cutting through the stupor that Jin has slipped into. "That- could have been worse, right?"

It's so thick with forced cheer, so _Shoichi_ , that Jin can't quite stop the biter laugh that bubbles up in the back of his throat. It chokes off into nothing almost immediately but for a fleeting moment he can almost appreciate the dark humour, the shear insanity, of it all.

"You okay?"

"Been worse," Jin shoots back, a similar level of cheer injected into his own tone and out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of Shoichi and the baffled glance his brother aims in his direction before turning his attention back to the road. "It's just crazy when I think about it. All of us sitting there, acting like we're a family."

"We are."

" _You_ are. I'm not." A sigh slips past Jin's lips, his breath fogging against the glass his head is resting on. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" There's a slight hesitation to Shoichi's words, a hesitation that Jin can't quite pinpoint. Maybe he's afraid of the answer. Maybe he's curious as to which of the multiple things Jin _knows_ he needs to apologize for is actually being apologized for.

"For killing him."

Shoichi's whole body goes tense, stiff and still in the seat next to him. "I know I shouldn't have said that but--"

"I'm not throwing it back in your face. I'm admitting you were right." A plastic smile fixes itself on Jin's face and he turns away from the window. A little bit taken aback by just how stricken his expression is when he catches a glimpse of it reflected in the glass. "I sat there listening to them talk about my 'miraculous recovery' and it sunk in that it wasn't really me they were talking about. _I'm_ the one that's the body snatcher. And I'm sorry."

The only response from Shoichi is silence, his eyes fixed straight ahead as he sits eerily still. None of the usual tics and fidgets Jin has become used to surfacing in the discomfort that comes with the quiet and he opens his mouth to say something more. Not that he knows what to say. Not that it matters.

"I don't want to get into this." Shoichi's voice is so low it's barely audible over the sound of the engine, but it's firm enough to freeze the air in Jin's lungs.

"But--"

"There's nothing to say. Nothing's going to change whether you self-flagellate over this or not. It's not really your fault anyway."

"You going to say it's Lightning's?" There's a tightness to Jin's throat, a lump he can barely speak around, and he's not sure if it's a bitter laugh stuck halfway in there or the need to cry. Unable to believe how quick his brother is to absolve him of any and all guilt, despite everything.

Then again, maybe Shoichi _needs_ to believe that. If only so he doesn't lose his mind.

"Probably more his fault than yours."

"Maybe. But I wasn't innocent."

Shoichi says nothing and a tense silence fills the cab of the truck for the remainder of the drive. A tension that is almost familiar by this point and Jin sighs, returning his gaze to the blur of light and darkness just outside the window.

 

There's a small rotation of places Shoichi likes to set up with the truck. Usually the plaza, or one of Den City's parks.

And sometimes, very occasionally, next to Stardust Road.

Jin asked why once, his voice far more light and indifferent than he felt. The only explanation a vague and entirely unsatisfying murmur about how tourists head up there for the view often enough to make it worthwhile. Something that Jin figures is more half truth than anything although what the real reason is he's not sure he wants to guess at. Maybe it's simply habit, maybe it's because Shoichi knows Fujiki spends time at that house overlooking the ocean now.

Whatever the reason, Jin is always a little uneasy on those days. The sight of the Kogami house looming further up on the cliff is enough to make his skin crawl. A vague sensation that someone is watching from behind those massive windows.

Jin is slouched in his usual spot at a nearby table (although considering retreating into the truck if only to avoid the chill in the air) whien Spectre comes down from the house on the cliff. Cool and impassive and (thankfully) alone. Not that Jin is any happier to see him than he would be if it had been Kogami Ryoken himself. A scowl etching his brow when he realizes that Spectre has stopped next to the table he's seated at.

"What are you doing here?" 

Spectre is silent for a moment, likely considering the question. "Ryoken-sama wanted something to eat. And since he's well aware that he's not welcome at this charming establishment--"

"Spare me. The food here isn't _that_ good. Not to the point anyone would go out of their way for it. What's the real answer?"

There's a faint tsk and Spectre's shoulders move in a languid shrug. "Both of us are aware of your current antics in Link Vrains and curious about them. But Ryoken-sama is also aware he's not welcome here so I took it upon myself to come by on my own. I thought perhaps our similar experiences would make you a bit more receptive."

"Right. Because I _love_ talking to the other victims. I'd figure your ' _Ryoken-sama_ ' would have told you about how I am around Fujiki."

"Oh, I'm aware. But then I'm not quite like the others, am I?"

Jin says nothing, his eyes back to focusing on the tablet in front of him in clear dismissal. Choking back the urge to tell him off when Spectre slides into the seat across from him.

"You know," Spectre begins, his tone light and casual, "I've been told by others that I have Stockholm syndrome."

"Well, at least you're cognizant of how bad you've got it."

"I think you do too."

Jin's eyes flick upwards. His expression dark in the face of Spectre's easy smile and an annoyed sigh slips past his lips. "This is that thing you do, isn't it? Getting in people's heads and jabbing them until you find a raw nerve to _really_ dig into."

"Perhaps."

"I thought you reserved that level of mind-games for duels."

"Would you like to?"

"Duel? No. I'd win, and it would be boring."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know exactly what kind of tactics you'd pull, both duel-wise and for getting in my head. If I know what you're going to do, I can get around it. I'm a better duelist than you. I'm better than any of you."

"Except for Fujiki Yusaku. The one time it counted, no less." Spectre smiles, cold and deadly. "Or perhaps you were afraid of having to follow through on your plans and wanted him to win."

"That's the stupidest thing I've heard you say yet."

"But is it wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," Jin sighs, stonewalling the question in the bluntest possible manner. "I don't care how curious you and the asshole holding your leash are when it comes to me, or how hard you try to bait me. I'm not playing along. You may as well go home."

Spectre doesn't respond, but he doesn't move either. Pale eyes hooded and the way he's watching, studying every slight twitch and movement Jin makes, reminds him a little of a snake.

After reading through three pages (not that he retains much of it, far too distracted by Spectre's presence for anything to stick with him) Jin looks up. "You're not going to get bored, are you?"

"I'm very patient."

With a sigh he lowers his tablet. "There's no explanation for any of it, Spectre. You can run home to your master and tell him that. If you think I'm plotting something you couldn't be further off base. I've given up. All I'm doing now is just trying my best to live."

"You have a very interesting idea of living."

"Says the guy who joined up with the cyber-terrorists that tortured him as a child."

There's no reaction to that, not that Jin really expected one. Spectre is in far too deep to consider his loyalty to the Knights of Hanoi as anything other necessary.

"Look," Jin says after a few more moments of breathless silence. "You can keep tabs on me and wonder if I'm up to something dangerous all you want. You wouldn't be the only ones." Unconsciously his eyes flick towards the truck, where Shoichi is watching from behind the counter. "But I'm not plotting anything."

"And your meeting with the Light Ignis?"

"Not something I was planning on doing. I probably want the Ignises dead as much as you do."

A thoughtful frown creases Spectre's brow. The expression surprisingly pensive. "I'm not so sure about that. But...." He smiles, cold and false as he smoothly gets to his feet. "I'll pass all this on. Just don't be surprised if no one quite believes it."

Jin's jaw tightens, but he says nothing. His eyes firmly focused on his tablet again as he waits for Spectre to leave. Residual tension refusing to leave his body even after the other teen is long gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backup nonsense is dead but I will never stop. Also I apologize for taking so long between chapters again. But I will finish this fic, I swear.

Spring makes Jin anxious and he's not sure why it surprises him. It was spring when he was taken, after all. Spring and its gentle blush of new greenery was the last real glimpse of the outside world he saw for a decade.

The damp smell of new growth leaves him sick to his stomach. Panicky and constantly looking over one shoulder to the point where he's twitching at the slightest flicker of movement in his peripheral vision and at first he flees back into Link Vrains. Things are blunter there. He's far less aware of sense and sensation.

But the tiny amount of ease he can scrape out of those trips doesn't last. New Link Vrains prides itself on just how vibrant it can be. Not a perfect representation of reality, but full of little touches that make it close and among those touches is the faint scent of flowers and greenery even in the highest reaches that Jin likes to frequent.

For a little while he considers the Edge before dismissing the idea. He hasn't been back since Shoichi caught him months ago and he's not quite sure he wants to layer the temptation of returning to previous habits on top of the choking unease he already feels. There is simply nowhere that he can go to escape the creeping dread. The whole thing leaving him sick to his stomach and shorter tempered than usual. Something that even Shima notices -- comments on -- and all Jin can do is shrug and mumble out a vague excuse. "I don't like spring all that much."

"Really? It's kinda nice after it's been so cold."

There's something refreshing about Shima's obliviousness. No cloying too-careful concern because Shima just _doesn't know_ and in some ways the lack of awkward tiptoeing around out of a fear that Jin might shatter is a relief.

"I guess." Jin's shoulders move in a jerky shrug and he tries to keep his breathing as shallow as possible. There's a gardener working his way around the plaza, planting brand new annuals in the flowerboxes that edge it, and the smell of freshly turned earth hanging in the air has him on the edge of vomiting. "It's kind of weird for me. Spring is when--"

He hesitates, a lie on the tip of his tongue. The usual one, the half-truth, related to hospital stays that he's always been carefully vague about. A lie that is only getting more and more difficult to tell for some reason, like there is a terrible self-destructive part of him that wants to spill everything just to see what would happen. Not that he really needs to lie at all anymore. The start of the sentence is enough for Shima's eyes go wide in realization and he stutters out, "Right. The- the whole hospital thing."

Jin gives a single sharp nod and busies himself with draining the last few drops of soda out of the bottom of his cup. The sucking noise rattles in his ears but it's still not quite enough to cover Shima's uneasy murmur of, "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to remind you."

"You didn't." He can't stop from fidgeting with his straw even though there's nothing left in the cup to poke at or stir. "Pretty much everything does."

Silence, save for a hum from Shima and Jin almost tells him not to hurt himself thinking when he asks, "Wanna go into Link Vrains for a bit? It might help."

"It's almost worse in there. They're going overboard on the springtime events and decorations."

"Huh. I didn't notice."

"Of course you didn't. You're kind of clueless."

"Am not!"

And just like that the mood lightens. Shima's emphatic protests more than enough to pull a laugh past Jin's lips. Not that the creeping feeling of dread entirely dissipates, but it's pushed to the side. At least for a little while. A few minutes. Maybe it'll last the rest of the afternoon if he's lucky.

He isn't. He gets fifteen minutes and then Shima starts complaining about how school starts next week and Jin can feel his stomach tighten in pure anxiety. Something that only intensifies when Shima idly asks, "So you gonna stick with the online studying or actually attend class like the rest of us poor suckers?" 

"My brother keeps asking the same thing," Jin chokes out, trying his best to keep his tone light and obviously failing given the way Shima frowns at him. "I did pass all the required exams and I'm pretty sure he registered me but--" He shrugs, the simple movement feeling stiff and awkward.

"So-- you are going? Or--"

"I don't know. I could if I wanted. I'm just not sure if I do." His lips draw back into a tight, almost vicious smile. "In case you haven't noticed I'm not great with people."

"Pshh, no kidding." Shima rolls his eyes, a surprising amount of sarcasm edging those words. "You may call me clueless but I'd have to be completely brain dead to miss that. Still, would it really be that bad? You got me to hang with! And since I've seen him working here you must know Fujiki-kun too, right?"

Reflexively Jin's hand tightens and he feels the waxy surface of his empty cup buckle in his grip. "Yea. Yea, I know him."

"So that's all you need! It'd be totally fine. I'm probably gonna join the duel club again this year and--"

Shima keeps talking, chattering really, but Jin stops hearing him, aware of nothing beyond a sharp ringing in his ears. A faint ache pulsing in the back of his skull and after a moment he looks down and pinches the bridge of his nose, that slight movement enough to draw Shima's attention again.

"Hey, you okay? You don't look so hot."

"Yea. Never better." The words are forced out from behind clenched teeth and burn bitterly in the back of his throat. "Can't you tell?"

"Yea, right." Shima goes (blessedly) quiet for a moment, his expression unusually serious. "Look, if you don't wanna you don't wanna. I'm not trying to twist your arm into it and I doubt your brother is either." A strangled sound catches in the back of Jin's throat at that. One he wonders if Shima even notices given the way the other teen continues without even the slightest pause. "But it'd be cool to have you around. Even if you are a jerk."

"I am not." Jin flashes a smile. The expression a little too sharp, a little too cynical, to come off as genuinely amused by the exchange.

"You so are. I think you're even worse than Fujiki-kun. No wonder he hangs around here."

"We don't really talk."

"You say that like either of you talk much."

"I'm serious. He's really more my brother's friend than mine."

_Not even a friend._ The words hiss in the back of his mind, insidious and pure poison. _Family. More of a brother to Shoichi than you are._

Jin isn't thinking when he jerks to his feet. His mind blank as he throws the half-mangled cup he'd been holding into a nearby trashcan and blurts, "I changed my mind. Let's go into Link Vrains."

"What, like-- now?"

"Yea. There's a couple link compartments in the truck. That's what I use all the time. Come on."

He hesitates just long enough to make sure that Shima is going to follow before heading to the truck. Blurting, "We're gonna use the link compartments," in response to Shoichi's confused expression and refusing to respond any further. Indifferent to both his brother's exclamation of, "What?" and Shima's baffled, "Why do you have all this stuff in a food truck?"

"You can have that one." Jin makes a vague motion towards the compartment on the right. The one he's never touched. The one Fujiki used to use. Idly wondering how Shima would react if he knew he was in the same tiny room Playmaker used to access Link Vrains. "I'll see you inside. We'll head to the usual spot."

Without another word he lets the door close behind him, ignoring the faint tremble to his hand as he logs in. The uneasiness and doubt that is crawling along his every nerve now that he's made this decision. A decision that may have been too sudden.

But there's no going back now.

There is a brief moment of calm in the suspended state between logging in and truly entering Link Vrains. A single heartbeat where he feels at ease and then it's gone. Link Vrains proper with its milling crowd of avatars and the heady scent of flowers on the air settles around him and a weight even heavier than the one he felt outside in reality starts pressing down on his chest.

"So why were you so anxious to come in here all of a sudden?" Shima's voice startles him, breaking through the whirling tangle of near panic that almost has him paralyzed.

"I'll tell you in a minute," Jin says, a little uncertain now that he's faced with having to follow through on what was ultimately an impulsive decision. "It's too crowded down here." Without another word he summons up his D-board and heads straight up, towards the first spot he showed Shima all those months ago. His thoughts an incoherent roar that leave him dizzy.

There's a brief moment where he wonders if maybe he'll go so fast that he'll lose the other boy amongst the false clouds and stray blocky formations that aren't quite big enough to make for a worthwhile perch. Maybe a while ago he would have. But they've been heading to this same spot so often, and Shima's been practicing on the D-board, that he stays right on Jin's tail. The pair of them reaching the isolated island almost in unison, and as Jin slumps to his usual sitting position on the edge Shima frowns.

"Seriously, man. You've been acting weird all day. What's going on?"

For a moment Jin says nothing. The words are there, arranged neatly in the front of his mind, all lined up on the tip of his tongue but nothing will come out. His breathing reduced to quick little gasps as he tries to make his vocal chords work.

"Lux?"

"The year I turned six, in the spring, I got kidnapped."

It's like taking the top off of bottle of soda someone's shaken. The release of pressure so welcome that he doesn't, cant, stop. The more he talks the lighter he feels and soon enough it all comes out. Not just the kidnapping and the room, but the switch. The years that followed. All of it. Shima silent through it all and as Jin's words finally fade he blinks a few times and murmurs, "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

Jin laughs and says, "I know," right back. "But it happened. My brother said months ago that I should try talking about it."

"And you picked me!?"

"Yea. I guess--" Jin pauses and considers his next words carefully as he stares out over the sprawl of Link Vrains below them. His voice strange and hollow in his ears when he continues, "I don't know. It seemed easier to tell someone who didn't know everything. Or-- anything. I was thinking about being vague about it." He flops backwards, staring at the too-bright expanse of sky above him for a moment before he throws an arm across his eyes. "Just stop with the kidnapping and say that was why I was hospitalized but once I started it just--"

His throat goes tight, choking off the rest of the sentence. Air wheezing out of his lungs in a shuddering sigh and he moves his arm just enough to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. Pressing down against the sudden burning ache he can feel there. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laid all this on you."

Shima is silent for such an unusual length of time that Jin finds himself wondering if he's even there or if he got up and left at some point. Curious but at the same time terrified to look. Stealing a quick glance between his fingers when the other boy's voice finally breaks through the quiet. 

"Does that mean you know Playmaker?"

Another laugh, this one a little bit wild, pulls its way past Jin's lips. "Yea, it does. And no I'm not telling you who he is."

"I didn't even think about that!" Shima's eyes go wide. "I was just gonna ask to meet him."

"I'm not doing that either. I can't stand him. Besides, he isn't coming back into Link Vrains. I can guarantee that."

"Aw, seriously?"

Jin shakes his head, his eyes narrowing somewhat as something else occurs to him. "Are you just focusing on the frivolous stuff to get my mind off of things?"

"Is it working?" Shima asks back, not even the slightest hint if hesitation evident in his voice, and for a moment Jin is taken aback. Not quite sure how to respond beyond an unsteady, "Yea. I guess so."

"So tell me about Playmaker already!"

"Did you miss the part where I said I hated his guts?"

"Like you're bitter rivals?"

Slowly Jin sits up, the shadow of a smile that had been touching his lips blossoming into a wry grin. "It's kind of more complicated than that. I mean I did try to kill him."

"It's so cool though. What was it like dueling him? C'mon you gotta tell me!"

Jin doesn't hesitate, voice completely toneless as he replies. "He's the only person to ever beat me after I got trapped."

The thought that follows, unbidden, freezes the air in his lungs. A strange sort of calm settling over him as it echoes in his mind.

_Maybe it's not so bad that he did._


End file.
